Friday, October 19, 2018

Banana Bon Temps Cocktail and Mardi Gras Murder


Ellen Byron, author of the Cajun Countries is here with a fabulous banana flavored cocktail and a delicious new book, Mardi Gras Murder. Read the first page of Ellen's book at the end of the post.

Bananas have a storied history in Louisiana. Imports began in the 1870s. By the 1950s, New Orleans was nation’s largest port of entry for the tropical fruit. This is why, when I decided to invent a cocktail for Mardi Gras Murder, my latest Cajun Country Mystery, I began with the banana.

In the fictional town of Pelican, Louisiana, Mardi Gras may be the most celebrated holiday of the year. Traditions include a big parade, a pageant, a gumbo cook-off, and several Courir de Mardi Gras (Mardi Gras Runs). At Crozat Plantation B&B, family and guests enjoy a King Cake baked by Ninette Crozat, mother to my protagonist, Maggie Crozat. Everyone washes down Ninette’s delicious pastry with a Banana Bon Temps cocktail. But this year, Mardi Gras in Pelican has been up-ended by the devastating flood that preceded it. The Crozats are determined to triumph over disaster. Still, they can’t help be haunted by a grim discovery in their own backyard.

They’ll need more than a few Banana Bon Temps cocktails to get through the holiday.


2 oz dark rum
2 oz banana liquor
1 ½ tsp. brown sugar
1 cup milk
1 cup ice
1 ripe banana

Blend everything but ½ tsp. brown sugar together. Pour in (highball) glasses and sprinkle each serving with the remaining brown sugar.

Serves 2

Here's the first page of Mardi Gras Murder...


The rain came. Came in a way no one in St. Pierre Parish had ever seen before. Bayous and rivers exploded their banks, turning small towns into lakes. Some residents escaping the deluge had to dodge alligators that the rushing water swept onto their flooded front porches. “It was like the good Lord took all his showers on one day,” Claude Fauchon muttered to the Cajun Navy as the hardy volunteers rescued him and his ancient mutt from the submerged Creole cottage Claude had owned for sixty of his eighty years.
 The rain sent a torrent of water raging down the usually placid Bayou Beurre. And with it came a community’s rubbish: worn-out tires, a ringer washer, an out-of-date infant’s car seat, even a suitcase full of 1960s- era women’s wigs. The junk backed up against the single lane bridge that ran behind Crozat Plantation Bed and Breakfast, blocking the bayou’s path to the Gulf of Mexico. The bayou overflowed, threatening the B and B’s outbuildings. But an intrepid crew of Crozat family members and volunteers let the relentless rain soak them as they hauled away the detritus of small town life. It wasn’t until they’d almost reached the bottom of the pile that they found the body.
The body of a stranger to Pelican, Louisiana.

1 comment: